


Bell Curve

by Zhie



Series: Eagle's Ridge University [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, M/M, Professors, University
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:32:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zhie/pseuds/Zhie
Summary: No one reads anymore - at least, not the important parts.  Faced with the prospect of sharing an office, Erestor and Glorfindel make the best of it following a rocky start.





	Bell Curve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ulan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ulan/gifts), [AndiiErestor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndiiErestor/gifts), [Dalandel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dalandel/gifts).



> There are three images of text messages - full text of these is found in the end notes for those unable to view from the images.

One could tell the day of the week by the color of Erestor’s attire. On Fridays, it was the grey suit -- the one he would argue was the most casual no matter how many times Fingon would shake his head at that. Thursdays he wore black, and Tuesdays he wore a blacker black, because that was, statistically, the day the most work was done, and true to that assumption, it was when the most meetings occurred, and somehow, the most formal of his suits seemed the most appropriate. 

Wednesdays he wore the brown one, and always with the pocket handkerchief that matched whichever tie he chose that day. That left the blue one for Mondays, a sharp navy ensemble, which was what he wore now as he reached into the pocket of his vest to check the time on his pocket watch. 

Most other faculty members he passed wore jeans and polos, or, even more frighteningly, collegiate wear from the spirit shack, the little store set up in the commons next to the bookstore that provided hoodies, hats, and other far too casual items of attire for purchase. There were far fewer employees around than there should be in his mind, he reasoned, and in his mind ticked off all of his colleagues that he did not see as slackers.

He stopped in the library on his way to his office, dropping off two books and picking up a stack of interlibrary loan requests he had made. While he had teaching assistants to do much of this portion of research for him, there was something quite satisfying about receiving a fresh bundle of old books from places faraway. These were carefully deposited into his messenger bag, and then he continued on to his office. 

The first thing that struck him when he rounded the corner was that a light was on in the suite. The second was that the door was ajar. The third was that humming emanated from the room.

He stopped a few paces away. Normally, if the janitorial staff was late in cleaning the room, he would see the cart in the hallway. It was also Monday, and so that theory made no sense, for they had all weekend to do what they wished with the carpet and wastebaskets, and Erestor kept the room incredibly tidy, so this theory was doubtful. It might have been maintenance; a lightbulb needing changing, or IT, doing updates on the computer he barely used. Both seemed unlikely; he had put in no work requests, and IT usually sent out emails, of which he had none as of 6:10 a.m. when he had last checked his email.

Far more cautious now on his approach, and even considering a call to security, Erestor came to the door and tapped it open with his foot so that he could peer in. As he scanned the room, he saw his own desk, and narrowed his eyes as he saw a second where once he had a table and a mini-fridge. There was a crate of books on the desk and a jacket slung over the chair for it. He bristled as he saw that the wastebasket was now on the other side of his desk, on the right side, terribly inconvenient for his left-handed tendencies. He took a few deep breaths and pressed a hand against his chest, no longer feeling in danger, but very much feeling trapped in an unfortunate situation. He pushed the door the rest of the way in, where it bumped something. He looked around to see that the fridge and table were in the middle of the room, and the fridge was unplugged at that. “Son of a bitch,” he hissed as he noted the slight puddle under the fridge. 

It was then that he saw the other occupant of the room, his office mate he realized with a shudder, and pointed an accusing finger at him. “Why would you unplug my fridge and move my things?” Erestor demanded.

Glorfindel, who was in the midst of moving books from a shelf in another corner behind the door, looked positively distressed. “I-- I am sorry-- I had--”

“Look at the mess you are making! And those books -- those books are all in order!” Erestor fumbled to put his messenger bag on his chair, then moved to the coat rack to hang up his jacket. “I had work to do today, and none of it is going to get done!”

“I completely understand!” attempted Glorfindel as he carried the stack of books into the other room, which was occupied by a large table, six chairs, and a low shelf of books and graduate school pamphlets. He emerged again, and came to block Erestor for a moment, who looked about to retrieve all of the volumes already taken into the meeting room. “This was here when I arrived,” Glorfindel said in a rush before he could be interrupted again. “When I came in this morning, my desk was gone. It took me forty-five minutes to find anyone who could tell me what's going on. Operations misread the memos, and they moved all of the desks over the weekend. When I got here, which was only about half an hour before you, I saw that your refrigerator was unplugged. I couldn't move my desk out of the way to plug it back there, and when I plugged it into the power strip, I blew a fuse. Maintenance already came up and scolded me for having a contraband device up here, whatever that means, and threatened to have it removed. I… freaking lied to them and told them I have diabetes and need to store insulin in it because it's the only thing I could come up with spur of the moment, so they left, and now I've been trying to find a way to get this plugged back in. I kept all of your books in order,” he added, panting a little from all the excitement and accusations.

Erestor’s shoulders slumped a little. “This is the second time I must ask you to forgive me,” he said. His eyes wandered to the puddle under the fridge on the table. “And thank you for covering for me.”

“It seems ridiculous that you wouldn't be allowed to keep this in your office.” Glorfindel returned to the bookshelf. “Maintenance told me there should be another outlet behind this shelf on a different circuit, so I just wanted to get to it temporarily.”

“Yes. Here; let me help.” Erestor joined Glorfindel in removing the items from the shelves and taking them carefully to the meeting room, where Erestor could indeed see that Glorfindel had meticulously kept things in proper order. “You would think, with something as major as this, operations would be a little more careful in reading the directions,” said Erestor once the final books were removed.

“It's a confusing memo, since it began with ‘effective immediately’, but then if they had read to the bottom, it said ‘goes into effect as of June 1st.” Now that the case was empty, they each took a side and moved it from the wall to reveal the outlet there. Glorfindel went to the table, but Erestor disappeared into the conference room, returning with a roll of paper towels, which were used to blot up the water before the table was moved. “It seems extremely inconvenient for all parties involved. I sent a message to my associate dean, telling him it would be a better idea if I stayed by the greenhouse and shared an office with someone down there, but he never answered. I only realized you are the original occupant here when you walked in. I was terribly nervous about all this when I was given the key to this room,” he admitted. “It's nice to know I'll be sharing an office with a friend.”

Erestor was crouched down, plugging the appliance back in as Glorfindel said this, and he slowly looked up. “Oh,” was all he managed.

Immediately, Glorfindel shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sorry, I… I made too much of an assumption after breakfast the other day. Hardly anyone will give me the time of day around this place, much less be seen eating with me, and… my apologies, Dr. Sullivan.”

With a sigh, Erestor stood, his guard down a little more than he would normally allow. “I have very few friends here as well,” he admitted. 

“How can that be?” wondered Glorfindel. “You are brilliant, and dedicated, and… well, I just cannot believe that.”

“Mmmhmm.” Erestor smirked, and it was the closest he had been to a smile in a long time. “It is simply a matter of… here.” Erestor walked into the meeting room, and Glorfindel followed. On the wall of the far end was a whiteboard. Erestor picked up the black marker and uncapped it. “You are familiar with a bell curve, no doubt.”

“Of course,” said Glorfindel, who leaned against the table and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Erestor draw one on the board. 

Erestor replaced the cap on the black marker and picked up the red one. “Most people… are here,” he said as he circled the middle portion of the chart. “Some people… are here,” he added, and circled either slope. “And I am… here.” He made an X at the far end, where the char all but tapered off. “And I suspect you are… here.” He made another X at the other end of it. “And Associate Dean King… well, my Associate Dean King, he would be… right here,” Erestor said, and he placed another X a little closer to the curve, yet near to where Glorfindel’s mark was.

“Is this your way of explaining that we cannot be friends, Dr. Sullivan?” 

“Actually… no. That was not…” Erestor lowered his arm and looked over his shoulder. “If we are to be friends, then you must call me Erestor from now on.”

The smile on Glorfindel’s face lit up the room. “Alright. So, what does this chart mean, Dr. Erestor.”

“It… mmm.” Erestor tried to frown, but he found he was amused by Glorfindel’s cheekiness. “Well, what it means, really, when you think about how the universe works, everything is cycles. Waves and repeating patterns and things like that. So this curve is not just a curve, it is cyclic, and it should be like… this.” Erestor drew a circle in blue, then added the black curve over it, bringing the low points back together again. He added the Xs on this illustration, and all three were placed quite close now. “I find there is something to be said about the theory of opposites attracting. We find fascination in things which are completely at odds with our own interests, and as people, we have a strange attraction to those most unlike ourselves, especially when at the extremes.” Erestor turned around, to see Glorfindel still leaned against the table, his palms now gripping the wood. “Thoughts?”

“I like your theory,” said Glorfindel, never once taking his eyes from Erestor as the board was erased. “Also, I am terribly sorry that I moved around the things I did before you arrived. It has to be quite the shock.”

“I think I shall survive. We cannot leave the bookshelf in the middle of the room, however.”

“Of course not,” agreed Glorfindel, already rolling up the sleeves of today’s sweatshirt, this one in the blue and gold school colors, yet without a logo of any kind. There was a tear in the left elbow, hidden now. “Point to things and I can move them where you wish -- this is far easier than hauling mulch or rocks around.”

It was past noon by the time everything had found a new home. The bookshelves had been swapped, with Erestor’s texts in the meeting room, and Glorfindel now using the shorter shelf for his. The fridge, now hidden in the meeting room, sat on two file cabinets shoved together, and the table where it had once lived was propped on its side in the hallway labeled to be removed. Glorfindel had just finished placing his books on the shelf when Erestor carried the trash bin from the meeting room, full of questionable food from the fridge. “All I managed to salvage was bottled water, but at least the freezer portion is all thawed out.” Erestor set the wastebasket outside the door, for it now carried with it the unpleasant odor of food left unchilled for several days. “That will teach me to leave my lunch in there over the weekend.”

“You can share mine,” Glorfindel offered, and he pulled open a drawer of his desk. “If you ever get hungry, I keep all sorts of things in here… granola bars, applesauce, instant mac and cheese. And… up here…” Glorfindel shut the first drawer and opened another. “Tea, honey, sugar… help yourself.”

“I thought… um… I have been rather… inhospitable towards you,” recognized Erestor. “Normally when I do not bring lunch I eat in the cafeteria, but their hours are reduced due to the break, and there are places just off-campus which should be less crowded. I thought it might make sense to go there.”

Glorfindel nodded his head. “That seems like a good idea.” His own stomach made a grumble, and he shut the drawer full of tea and opened the other to fish out a package of ramen.

Erestor stepped closer to his own chair to retrieve his jacket, chewing on the words in his mouth. Once he had it on, he carefully said, “Did you… intend to stay for the day, or are you leaving soon?”

“Oh, well, I did want to get some work done… but if it would make you feel more comfortable, I can go back to the greenhouse until after you return,” offered Glorfindel.

Erestor gripped the back of his chair tightly as he struggled to maintain eye contact and wondered just what was causing him to blush. “I thought I might be able to make up for some of my bad behavior by offering to take you to lunch.” He stammered a little, and an absurd notion came to him, which he shoved away. “If you are busy, though--”

“I would love y-that.” Glorfindel cleared his throat. “I would love that.”

“Really? I mean, I could also go and pick something up and bring it back--”

“No… well, unless you prefer that. Either way,” rushed Glorfindel.

Erestor looked around. “It would be good to get out of the office for a bit.”

“Yes; I agree.” Glorfindel stood up. “Uhm… would you mind… I just… I need a few minutes, I have something I need to get from my office. My old office. The one by the greenhouse.”

“Oh… of course. I could wait here, or… do you know where lot F-4 is?” asked Erestor. “I am parked right over there; you could just come by when you are finished.”

Glorfindel nodded. “Perfect.”

“Right.” Erestor lifted up his messenger bag by the strap. “You have the key now, so you can lock the door, I trust?”

“Absolutely,” answered Glorfindel.

“Right.” Erestor tried to think of something more to say, but ended the exchange with, “See you soon,” before he left the room. He almost immediately pulled his phone from his pocket, entered the passcode, and tapped ‘messages’ with his thumb as he walked briskly down the hallway.

Erestor exited the building and walked down the ramp to the corner. Only after he crossed the street and reached his vehicle did he return to his phone, hastily entering the passcode so that he could respond.

 

After this message, Erestor warily looked around. He was standing beside his Kia Sorento, for the day was too nice to wait inside the vehicle if he did not have to. He also feared that Glorfindel would not see him if he was hidden inside, with its tinted windows. Erestor looked back at the phone and saw nothing, and he paced a little, and almost considered calling Fingon when no messages were forthcoming. His phone suddenly made a blipping noise after what seemed forever, and he looked down to respond to Fingon’s message.

 

“Nice car!” 

Caught off guard, Erestor nearly dropped the phone on the ground. He recovered and shoved it into his pocket. “Thank you. 2014 model. Low mileage. I used to lease them, but the woman at the dealership convinced me that I was better off buying this one.” Erestor unlocked the vehicle, and only now took in Glorfindel’s appearance. “You changed.”

“I just thought this might be more appropriate.” Glorfindel had his hair combed back in a ponytail, and swapped his sneakers for a pair of slightly worn but shined up wingtips. He still had his jeans on, but his sweatshirts was replaced with a plain black tee, and a black jacket over that. “It was the best I could do on short notice. I try to keep ‘emergency meeting’ clothes around for… emergency meetings. And pleasantly unexpected lunches.”

When Erestor realized he was admiring Glorfindel’s appearance far longer than intended, he tilted his head at his vehicle. “Get in,” he said, and Glorfindel obliged.

**Author's Note:**

> Text Message Screen One:
> 
> 1:13 pm  
> Erestor: Are you there?
> 
> 1:15 pm  
> Kano: In my office. I just heard about the desk situation. How are you holding up?
> 
> Erestor: I have a problem.
> 
> Kano: Shit. Do you need me to stop by?
> 
> Erestor: Not that sort of problem.
> 
> Kano: ???
> 
> Text Message Screen Two: 
> 
> 1:19 pm  
> Erestor: I was stuttering.
> 
> Kano: I can understand that.  
> Kano: It had to be a shock to unlock your office and find him there.
> 
> Erestor: I was stuttering the way I used to stutter around you.  
> Erestor: I asked him to lunch and he accepted. Tell me not to get my hopes up.
> 
> Text Message Screen Three:
> 
> 1:33 pm  
> Kano: Look at you, all grown up, asking people out on dates.
> 
> Erestor: It is not a date. It is just lunch.
> 
> Kano: That is not what you are going to say a month from now.


End file.
